Phil Burgess: Practice of mentoring should not be delayed to later life

Joshua McKerrow/Capital Gazette

The success of Navy women’s lacrosse in recent years is a bonus years story because it reflects not only the leadership, recruiting and coaching techniques of 62-year-old Cindy Timchal at Navy but her lifelong impact as a mentor and role model.

The success of Navy women’s lacrosse in recent years is a bonus years story because it reflects not only the leadership, recruiting and coaching techniques of 62-year-old Cindy Timchal at Navy but her lifelong impact as a mentor and role model. (Joshua McKerrow/Capital Gazette)

Phil BurgessCorrespondent

Many books and articles about "retirement" see the bonus years as a time for individuals to move from "success to significance" or to "find meaning" in their life or to plan their "third act" so their life will have "lasting consequences."

How do we do this? We do it, according to one writer, by "giving back" to society "…by volunteering for nonprofits, mentoring, giving to charity, becoming activists for causes (you) believe in, and so on."

I'm always baffled, if not irritated, by this way of thinking about later life. Reason: It implies that those who've spent their working lives as a butcher, baker or candlestick maker did not also volunteer, give to charity or in other ways "give back" to society. After all, they held down a job, paid taxes, educated their children, provided a service to others. The examples of "meaningful" work and activities of people between ages 22 and 65 are endless.

This is especially the case for mentoring, one of the often-cited ways for elders to "give back" in later life — a time when we are flush with wisdom that comes from knowledge and experience and when we have the time to help others.

But mentoring, for many, is not just a bonus years undertaking; it is an approach to relationships rooted in a lifelong practice.

Consider the example of Navy coach Cindy Timchal. On May 26, she took her Midshipmen to Gillette Stadium in Foxborough, Massachusetts, for their first Division 1 NCAA final four women's lacrosse national semifinal tournament.

Though the Navy women were stopped by a dubious foul called with 48 seconds to go, giving Boston a 16-15 win, most of this year's team is returning next year. That sounds good for Navy for 2018 and is remarkable because Navy women's lacrosse, a club sport just a few years ago, is already a powerhouse in the Patriot League and the NCAA.

The success of Navy women's lacrosse in recent years is a bonus years story because it reflects not only the leadership, recruiting and coaching techniques of 62-year-old Timchal at Navy but her lifelong impact as a mentor and role model.

Example: All four teams in the final four in Foxborough were coached by Timchal (Navy) or Timchal protegees (Maryland, Boston College and Penn State).

In fact, over the years, Timchal — whose accomplishments include eight national titles, two-time national coach of the year and many others — has inspired dozens of her players to follow in her footsteps. In 2011, more than 20 collegiate lacrosse teams were led by coaches who had been coached by Timchal during her time as Maryland's head coach before 2006, when she left Maryland to start the Navy program.

As one observer noted, "The lives she touches and student-athletes she molds represent an immeasurable impact on the people around her" — an impact with deep roots in her life.

The late Woody Hayes, the iconic "three yards and a cloud of dust" football coach at Ohio State University, is another example of a man, now in the College Football Hall of Fame, who had a significant impact on individuals under his tutelage throughout his life.

During his coaching career, 58 of his players earned All-America honors, and one, Archie Griffin, was the first and only two-time winner of the coveted Heisman Trophy in its eight-decade history. During 28 seasons at OSU (1951-1978), he won five national championships and 13 Big Ten titles.

The most poignant example of a man having an impact throughout his life, and not just in retirement, is a personal one. As I was completing two years in Norway as a Fulbright Scholar, I was awarded a post-doctoral fellowship at Ohio State University by James A. Robinson, a distinguished professor of political science.

We undertook a joint research project on military alliances. It lasted for a year, and he was heavily involved at every stage. I learned a lot from him during that year — about research, teamwork, publishing, being a colleague.

At the end of the year, he sponsored me for a position on the OSU faculty as an assistant professor, and I received the appointment. After that, we continued to work together, and for several years, we would team-teach at least one course a year.

It was working with him that I learned how to teach, how to make a syllabus, how to manage a classroom and advise students, and how to conduct myself as a faculty member in a large department in a university with 55,000 students.

One day, the president of the university announced that Robinson would become the next provost at Ohio State, the youngest in the history of the Big Ten at that time. I volunteered to help him pack up his office in the political science department so he could move to the university's administration building.

While packing, I started to thank him for the two years we had worked together, for all that I had learned from him and for his taking the time to help me launch my academic career. I had actually planned and practiced my little speech in advance.

But before I could finish even 30 seconds of my appreciation commentary, he interrupted me. He said, "Stop. I don't need that. If you think I've helped you these past two years, then you can pay me back by helping others that cross your path in the years to come. There will be many. Help them. Give them your time. Give them your best advice. That's how you can thank me."

I was stunned. I really wanted him to know my deep feelings of gratitude. But he would have none of it. Too bad. But, in the years since, I have worked hard to follow his admonition: When young people come along who can use your help, help them!

Achieving significance is not only about the bonus years but most often has deep roots in the entire life of an individual. Though we cannot be blind to the knowledge, skills and other assets we accrue as we add years to our lives, finding meaning in our life is a work of a lifetime, not just later life.

Phil Burgess is president of the Annapolis Institute and author of "Reboot! What To Do When Your Career Is Over But Your Life Isn't." Send your post-career story or nominations of interesting people with good stories or other comments to pburgess@annapolisinstitute.net.